


From The Ashes

by Nat



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat/pseuds/Nat
Summary: A reunion.





	From The Ashes

When Pepper hears the roar of jets outside, she doesn't allow herself to get her hopes up.

When it's followed by the familiar clang of metal boots against concrete, her legs carry her downstairs on autopilot.

Their eyes lock as he walks in from the landing pad, and she crosses the foyer. None of it feels real, but both their paces quicken, unconsciously, rushing to meet each other in the middle. Her breathing slows, his quickens. His armor seems to melt from him, until he's padding across the floor in his torn underarmor, meeting her barefoot pace.

The sounds of the spacecraft whirring down fade away outside. The only sounds inside are their footsteps, somehow perfectly in time with each other. Then even those stop, give way to the soft sound of the collision of their bodies.

He crumples to the floor immediately, she gently lowers down to meet him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers clinging into his hair. Her breath catches. He's real. He's here. He's in her arms, alive, solid.

His silent tears soak into the crook of her neck, quickly soaking the collar of his worn out Black Sabbath shirt she's wearing. He breathes in the familiar smell of her shampoo, mixed with his detergent. It's mostly her, but also that unique smell of their bedroom, of their toiletries and how they mingle together. She smells like home. He feels empty, but safe.

She feels relief. Pain, for what he's had to go through, but relief he's here. He's alive.

He reeks of space, of metal, of blood and ash. But he feels as solid as he did when she last saw him in the park, nearly half a month ago now.

It's strange. Almost uncomfortable, even. Under any other circumstances they'd be stumbling over each others words, playing off each other's thoughts, filling every moment with loving banter. What is there to say now? There's just relief. Relief that cannot be put into words. She squeezes impossibly tight. He goes limp, his breath stuttering, he pushes his face deep into the crook of her neck. Not even a sob comes out, silent tears just continue to fall.

 _'Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good–'_  
_**'–that's not a hug–'**_  
_'–I don't... I don't know what's happening. I don't wanna go–'_  
_**'–I'm just grabbing the door for you–'**_  
_'–Mr. Stark, please. Please. I don't want to go... I'm sorry...'_

He flinches hard at his own mind, his own memories. His eyes squeeze shut, his breathing stops, slowly, jaggedly, stutters to a start again. Tears pour and pour from his eyes, how does he have this many tears?

Names flit across his mind. _Rhodey? Happy? Harley? Bruce? Natasha? Vision... Vision. Hill? Peter..._ _ **May?!**_ _Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter._

He doesn't want to know. He's not ready to know who on Earth he's lost. He has Pepper. He doesn't want more pain. He can't handle more pain. He physically cannot handle more pain. Any more loss. He has Pepper.

She exhales a stuttered breath, presses a firm kiss to his greasy hair. She, too, drops all the way down. It's no longer clear who's holding whom, she's in his lap, he's on the floor. She lowers her head while he raises his, meets his forehead with hers. Their eyes are closed, they're just breathing each other's air. Ignoring everything around them, everything that's happened. Against all odds, they have each other. He found his way back to her. He's alive. She's alive.

Slowly, they open their eyes. Blue meets brown, tears flowing freely from each. There's despair in his, desperation in hers. Her shaky thumb comes up to his cheek, trying in vain to wipe the wetness from his cheeks.

She looks like she hasn't gotten a proper night's sleep in a long time. It's because she hasn't. Neither has he.

Her face is bare of any makeup, her hair in messy strawberry blonde waves, resting on the t-shirt she's been wearing since _it_ happened. Bruises and cuts cover his face, bits of dried blood streaked away by tears. The pain of defeat physically hurts him. The pain of the loss. The cost of the defeat.

He felt so empty. Now, he just feels her. Pepper, alive, shaking in his arms. Her fear fading away to disbelief, to an unimaginable relief.

Nothing is okay, but they still feel such comfort from each other. It's not okay. They're alive, though, and they have each other. They didn't think they would. But they do. It's all that matters to either of them in the moment, all that either of them will allow themselves to think of.

The moment is, of course, interrupted. A blue woman storms out the pilot door of the spacecraft, trudges through the open bay door. She stops behind Tony – Pepper looks up to meet her eyes for just a moment, before fixing them back on Tony, like if she looks away for more than a moment he'll disappear, crumble away and float into nothingness, ash floating through her fingers.

“Everyone's dead,” she informs Pepper bluntly. She'd assumed as much, but refuses to let her thoughts drift to the crippling loss when she has Tony here in her arms.

The woman rolls her eyes forcibly at the sight of the couple on the floor. Through gritted teeth she grunts, “Must be nice.”

Not a word from Pepper or Tony still, Nebula continues after a pause, “I'm stealing your food.” She trudges deeper into their home.

Somehow, the breaking of the silence makes it feel more real. Tony is alive. Tony is on Earth. Tony stark is alive, on Earth, in her arms. A solid, breathing, mass. They have so much to say. So much that will hurt to say. So many deaths to tally. Names to relay. Still, both refuse to speak. To break the reverie, the relieved shock to have each other back.

Her hand still against his cheek, she pulls him in for a kiss. It's a short, chaste kiss. They're both disgusting, unshowered. It's not lust, it's reassurance. Reassurance they have each other. They're not going anywhere.

Slowly, gently, her hand runs from his cheek, across his shoulder, down his arm, and meets his hand. He wraps his around hers, gives her a squeeze. His eyes don't quite meet hers anymore. It's all too much.

Hands linked, she slowly stands up, gently pulls him up with her. As close together as they can, they walk to the shower together. They trudge up the stairs, shoulder to shoulder.

There's the crash of a dish shattering in their kitchen.

She squeezes his hand. He bumps her shoulder with his.

Somehow, they'll make it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> give this song a listen. it's on my mind after writing this out.  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwYwfTizfCU>


End file.
